A Tad Too Much
by Undomiel-Estel
Summary: A banquet, an Elf Queen, and just a little too much wine. So much for heightened senses.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.

The banquet hall was lovely, golden cast and lush in the bright torch lights. Rich heavy tapestries lined the wall, each woven with the image of past kings and renowned battles, displaying the great histories of both Gondor and Arnor. Nobles lined the opulent feasting tables, chatting, debating, and arguing drunkenly. The food was splendid and the music festive and enthusiastic. There was just one problem.

The wine was simply not getting her drunk enough to enjoy the boorish man beside her.

To be honest, she had stopped paying attention to him long ago, content instead to scan the room and watch her husband's guests. Young women in search of potential suitors coaxed nervous gentlemen into the elegant court dances of the Kingdom. Some tripped over the hems of their gowns while forcing coquettish smiles on their reddened faces, refusing to shyly laugh at their humility. The gallant men pretended to ignore their partner's missteps and swing them about the dance floor. Old councilmen and newer advisors discussed the future of the reunited kingdoms now that the line of kings had been restored. Her husband was across the room, making his dutiful rounds and greeting his guests with (she knew) forced vigor. She smiled and her eyes sparkled as she watched him, marveling at how handsome he appeared in his royal garb with the winged crown upon his brow.

It was a night for celebration devoid of reason. It was simply an evening for dancing, friends, food and drink. It was an attempt to restore the court of Gondor to the ways of the old kings, full of festivity and merriment.

Or rather it would be, if the fool beside her would cease his endless prattling.

The man snorted, the extra skin beneath his chin wobbling and the skin of his balding head shining in the light of the hall. "These maids. Always flaunting them selves in such a manner. It's shameless. No man wants to marry so aggressive a woman. You must forgive their ignorance, M'lady." He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, while at the same time stuffing a forkful of meat into his mouth. She grimaced as she took in the thin line of grease encircling his lips, and shut her eyes against the sight as she downed another mouthful of the bitter wine. She prayed the alcohol would kick in soon and dull her senses enough so that she might be able to pass herself off as interested and attentive, even while she was desperately trying not to slap the man into silence.

She glanced once more around the room, hoping her husband was close enough to rescue her. He was not. She groaned inwardly and took another fortifying sip. "They are young", she began, "They are of proper marrying age, and no doubt marriage is on their mind, as well as the minds of their parents. I do not fault them in their chase for I myself had been a chaser in the long years of my life before my husband."

He turned to her and laughed, sending little bits of food and spittle flying at her. She gasped and moved back, sending her heavy oak chair sliding across the stone floor, the loud noise echoing throughout the room. No one seemed to notice, especially the offending lord. She glared at him with narrow eyes, finally aware that no level of drunkenness could make him tolerable. Standing she curtsied and left the table with a curt "good evening, my Lord", ignoring the confused stare her dinner companion followed her with.

She gracefully weaved her way though the guests and servants. Her head felt heavy but her body felt weightless and the feeling threatened to overwhelm her with improper giggles, and she decided that she had indeed overdone it with the wine. She cursed her more mortal senses and mourned the revoked Elvin. She had never been drunk before, and wondered if she was comfortable with the sensation. She analyzed the feeling for a few more seconds and decided the only way she would know for sure was to have another glass of wine. She liberated a filled glass from a passing tray and sipped it as she continued on her journey.

"Your majesty, are you alright?"

Arwen turned to address the voice behind her, and was happy to see Legolas smiling at her. She covered her mouth as she swallowed the mouthful of wine and then greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

"I am well, Mellon-nin, though I perhaps may have had a touch too much of Gondor's finest vintage." She raised the glass into the air and saluted him as she took another sip. He laughed as he watched her swallow the strong liquid without grimace or wincing. She had obviously been practicing this evening. He chuckled.

"Remember Arwen, you are immortal no longer. Your senses are no longer the senses of an Elf. You can not drink to excess without heed." He came to stand close to her, leaning in to whisper. "Might I inquire as to the cause for your…indisposition?"

She cast her eyes to the floor; her face wearing the look of a child caught doing something naughty. "Estel left me sitting alone with Lord Edrin." She sighed. "It is lucky I only saw fit to drink. There were knives in the dinner service. I could have slit my wrists."

Legolas offered a sympathetic pat on the arm, but took the flute from her hand. Arwen did not even notice. "All the same, Undomiel, I think you should consider drinking only water from here on out. I doubt you'll like how you feel in the morning as it is." He left for a moment and soon returned, handing her a small mug filled with cool water, and she raised it to her lips. She drank the liquid quickly, realizing that she did feel a bit dehydrated and glad for the water. She emptied the mug and handed it back to Legolas. He refilled it again and she looked at it in amusement. "More?"

"More."

"Alright. I suppose I'll thank you for this in the morning?"

"I suspect so."

She took a slow sip and smiled at her friend. She searched her husband out in the crowd and gestured towards him. "Would it be wrong of me to go to him now?"

"He is your husband. It is never wrong for you to go to him. Besides, I can't hold you here all night watching over you. I have fighting to get to with Gimli." She laughed and groaned when she realized he had indeed been holding her in place. He left go of her hesitantly and was relieved when she did not immediately fall over. "I think you can make it."

She took one step away from him and tripped over her gown. He smirked at her and shook his head. "I can think of a million ways your husband will try to take advantage of this situation."

She favored him with a drunken but dazzling smile.

"I can think of a million ways I'd enjoy just that."

She turned on her unsteady heel and hiccupped slightly. His laughter echoed behind her and she cursed all elves for their sensitive hearing. She looked about the wide expanse of the room and frowned when she could not see Aragorn anywhere. She circled the room but in disappointment. He had somehow managed to disappear. She weighed her options and decided against returning to her seat, especially with that sanctimonious Lord Edrin still firmly planted beside her chair. She did not think she could handle anymore wine anyway.

She leaned against a thick stone pillar, the thick velvet of a tapestry separating her body from the cold rock, a slight welcoming breeze swirling about from the balcony beyond the pillars. She stared absently at the dancers twirling about the floor, and wondered just where her husband might be at when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves about her waist and pulled her from the lit sanctuary of the hall. Dropping the mug of water, she opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly a mouth pressed hard against her own and she found her cries of protest too muffled for effectiveness.

It took her a few wild-eyed moments to realize she was staring at her husband's face as he kissed her. She relaxed instantly and returned the embrace, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to let his tongue brush against her own. He tasted like honey and she sighed.

He pulled away slowly and grinned down at her, his blue eyes bright and full of love.

"You taste good", he murmured, leaning in for another quick kiss. "Like wine." He licked his lips and pressed her against the stonewall. She gazed at him through her thick lashes and the tips of her mouth curled into a smile. "I should think so. I've had four glasses." He raised his eyes to hers and she could see the astonishment in them.

"Four? I'm impressed."

She smiled triumphantly at him. "Impressed? Think me incapable of out drinking some of your men, Estel?" She challenged him mockingly.

He grinned and rested his hands on her hips.

"I'm impressed that it takes so little to get you so drunk. Think of how much money you will spare me when I spirit you away for clandestine nights in taverns! I'll be rich!" He looked around them at the opulence of the palace. "Well, richer." He grinned at her. "Regardless, this knowledge will come in handy, I am sure."

She swatted at him before wrapping her arms around his neck. She stood on her toes and leaned against him. His eyes met hers, and for a breathless second he wondered how she could be so beautiful. Her mouth was rosy and moist, begging to be kissed. Her eyes were half-closed, as though she were about to drift into sleep, and of the deepest sapphire, glittering with barely restrained desire and absolute love. Her dark hair was pulled back into an intricate up do, long tendrils spiraling down her neck. He brushed an errant curl away from her face and tucked it behind her pointed ear, running his fingers lightly over the tip.

She closed her eyes and sighed as she leaned into the caress. His hands roamed over and up her hips, his fingers brushing against the softness of her gown. He drew back to get a better look at her.

Her pale skin glowed against the velvet of her gown. The material was as dark as the blue of the night sky, but silver thread was woven through the garment, adding sheen to the fabric. A girdle of silver and amethyst rested upon her slender hips, a beautiful gift from the Dwarves at their wedding two years before. She wore nothing around her neck, but from her delicately pointed ears she had clipped a splendid pair of earrings. They dangled about her swan like throat, the gem detailing casting bright fire when the light hit them just right.

She was every inch a Queen.

A drunk Queen, but a queen nonetheless.

He offered her a hand, and she accepted, more so to steady herself and recover from his kisses than to walk a straight line. He started to lead her back into the banquet hall, and as he did so, she hiccupped. He stopped short to look at her with an amused grin, and her face reddened.

"You left me alone with Edrin! I had no choice!" He started laughing as she dropped his hand and continued. "No one should go through a conversation with him sober! Do you know he actually asked me how old I am?"

"You're an Elf, Indonya. I'm sure there are some even taking bets. I myself would have a crack at it were I not wed to you." He paused a moment and scratched his chin, murmuring absently "though that **is** an advantage on my part."

"Oh, really? Well, he also asked me if I enjoyed being married to a relative child."

He stopped smiling.

"What else?"

"If in my age and wisdom I found it necessary to share with you certain…_experiences_."

He drew himself up to his full height. "Well. That simply will not do." He bit his bottom lip. "It is one thing to insult me, but it is most unwise to insult my queen." He rubbed his neck. "If you wish, I shall speak with him on the matter." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "What do you think, love? Does your wounded pride require vindication?"

Her hand reached to press against the base of her neck. Her eyes crossed and her breath hitched in her throat. She held onto her husband's arm while she tried to keep herself from losing balance. She moaned as a wave of nausea overwhelmed her.

"I think I need to go to bed."

He laughed and drew her to him. "Alright, wife. Let's get you into bed." She did not miss the hinting lustful tone of her husband's voice. A tiny jump bounced in her belly, and she found herself pushing away all thoughts of sickness in favor of awakening scintillating desires. She allowed him to lead her from the balcony and back into the crowded hall. He laced her arm about his own and escorted her across the dance floor, nodding to the bowing audience as they passed.

They passed through the heavy oak doors and into the silent dark halls of the Palace. The moon cast luminous shadows across the walls and floors through the large windows, and the sounds of the busy nightlife of Minas Tirith echoed from the lower levels of the citadel.

Aragorn watched his wife's face out of the corner of his crystalline eyes, a slight smile pulling at the tips of his mouth. Aside from Legolas, he had never seen another elf intoxicated (and _that_ had required an obnoxious amount of liquor), and it was proving to be an amusing experience, especially as the elf in question was his wife. They walked in silence, content with each other's presence.

They reached their chambers and the posted guards swung the thick wooden doors open. Arwen entered the room, tripping a bit as she did. Aragorn chuckled as he turned to close the doors behind them. He walked to a stone table in a corner of the room and lit a few candles. The room was cast in dim shadows, and he spied Arwen on the other side of the large bed. She was fidgeting with the laces up the back of her elegant gown, frustrated that they were not coming apart with ease. He joined her and smiling, removed her hands from the knot that she had only succeeded in worsening.

"Love, let me."

She looked into his eyes, her own dark and sparkling. Her full lips curved into a smile and she turned her back to him, giving him access to the ribbon. He slowly worked the knot loose, and drew the heavy velvet from her shoulders. He lightly kissed the satiny skin. She sighed and her head lolled to the side, baring her neck to his exploring lips. He ran his tongue along the length of her slender throat, and she leaned into him. The loosened gown gave way under his slight pull, and the fabric fell into a silent pool at her feet. She turned in his arms, and he drew back to look at her.

Clad in nothing but his favorite of her undershifts, she looked at him through shy lashes, and he grinned widely. The sheer lavender material barely concealed her figure from his heated gaze, and his eyes roamed the outline of her breasts and the curve of her trim hips. He began to remove his tunic and had unbuttoned it, and Arwen hiccupped.

He laughed softly, the light and warmth in his eyes assuring Arwen that it was not done out of mocking. He left his shirt hanging open and leaned in to kiss her forehead as he took her hand.

"Let's get you into bed", he murmured sensuously.

She nodded and turned to step closer to the bed but she tripped on her gown and instantly his arms were about her waist. She giggled up at him and he lifted her easily into his strong arms. He shook his head at her and kissed her gently. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he asked amusedly.

She ran her fingers through his dark hair, pulling his mouth nearer to her own.

"Whatever you like, Estel." She kissed him deeply and he groaned. Without breaking the kiss he lay her down upon the thick coverlets adorning their bed. She sank into the warm softness and sighed as he withdrew to shed his clothing. She stretched, her toes curled and a content look on her lovely face. She sat up and reached up to undo the coif she had spent hours achieving earlier today. The heavy black curls fell down her back and over her bare shoulders, the dangling crystal earrings getting lost in the mass.

Aragorn stood stunned into inactivity at the simply gesture. The dark waterfall of curls spilling about her and the look of pure bliss on her face rendered him speechless. Arwen watched him, her glossy eyes filled with mirth at the sight of him. His tunic had been cast to the floor, the lacings of his leather breeches undone and his kingly boots thrown hastily into a remote corner. The light of the dim candles barely lit his skin, but with her elven eyesight she could see the faint outlines of past scars and wounds. His tan skin was as golden as hers was pale silver, and a tingling thrill went down her spine at the thought of how the two colors looked when their limbs were entangled. It was an erotic thought, for she found herself kneeling on the bed and reaching an arm out to draw him near.

He joined her and his lips claimed hers in a hard kiss. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues wrestled. She fell back into the coverlets and he leaned over her, pressing her further into the mattress. Arwen reached down to slide her hand into the front of his leggings and he kissed her harder while his hand drew the strap of her shift down to expose her breast. They ended the kiss and continued to undress each other, their breath coming in panting gasps and moans.

It was not long before he was embedded deep inside his wife's body, her hips arching to meet his in an ancient dance. They moved against each other slowly, drawing out their pleasure, unwilling to end the sweet torture consuming them. Arwen moaned, a deep throaty sound that compelled Aragorn to push himself into her harder. She took the roughened thrust with practiced ease, her body aching for her husband's touch. He balanced himself up on his arms, the muscles tight and well defined as he held himself above her.

Her hair fanned out over the bed, the inky blackness stark against the silk snow white of the pillows. Her lips parted and in Elvish she urged him on in breathless whispers. He moved quickly now, sensing his wife's approaching climax and fighting to keep his own under control. He held himself up with one arm and wrapped the other about his wife's shoulders, drawing her against his chest and burying his face in her soft hair. Her eyes were shut tight in her weakness, and she bit his shoulder gently, her cries muffled against his skin.

"Estel!" She cried out and her nails dug into his back, the first wave of ecstacy washing over her. He brought her back down to the sheets and watched her face as she threw her head back, arched her back and gripped his hips. He arched his hips and moved in quick deep thrusts, knowing she got the most pleasure out of that particular move. She moaned once more and feel back to the sheets, her breasts rising with each rapid breath she took.

He began to move again, this time more slowly while she regained her wits. His head was spinning and he could feel the tensed muscles in his body beginning to unwind. Her heat was threatening to undo him any moment, and than suddenly he was on his back and she was astride him, running her fingers down the side of his face and tracing his lips. She bent to kiss him, and moved her hips in sync with his own. He ran his hands over her buttocks, but she took them and placed them on her hips. Looking up at her, he realized she was letting him dictate to her how she should move.

He bit his lower lip as he guided her up slowly. As soon as his tip had left her, he pushed her back down roughly, her body enveloping him. He continued to guide her for several moments before letting her take over. She worked his body and he cupped her breasts, and all too soon he felt the heat inside him fan out and consume him. He bent his knees and she leaned against him, the movement and position just right for him to spend himself inside her with one last arch of her hips.

She moved from his lap and stretched out beside him, flushed and glowing. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, and they lay their heads on the pillow facing each other.

"I think I feel much better now", she offered.

He kissed her fingers. "I am glad. Although, I do think I enjoyed healing you of your afflictions through this particular manner. And perhaps you ought to drink more at the banquets. I can think of further ways I would wish to heal you."

She groaned. "No more wine, Estel. Not for a very long time."

He shook his head in mock sadness. "That is too bad, Meleth. I was looking forward to another round of recuperation." His words held a deeply arousing tone, and Arwen looked at him with a mischievous glint in her sapphire eyes. She raised a hand to her mouth, and in a very artificial way, coughed delicately.

"Oh my. It seems as though I have caught a chill."

His grey eyes flashed and he smirked. Drawing her near once more, he placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "Well, I cannot have that. I shall have to remedy that, I suppose."

Arwen smiled wickedly.

"Please do."


End file.
